Wake Up
by imdeadsothere
Summary: Harry is leaving England for a long time, and on the night of his departure, he and Ron get pissed and end up hooking up. What does it mean in the morning? SLASH. ONE-SHOT. SUGGESTIVE BUT NOT EXPLICIT.


Harry's head was pounding. He groaned, squinting his eyes against the bright light. Where was he? He blinked a couple of times, letting himself adjust before his eyes finally opened fully.

He recognized the place at least, it was Ron's bedroom in his apartment. But why was he there? And why was he in Ron's bed? Or more importantly, he thought as full awareness came to him, why was he naked?

Harry slowly turned his head.

No, no no no no nononononononononono… yes.

But just to make sure Harry peered under the covers.

Yes. Definitely was.

Ron was, as well, naked.

And so was Harry.

He and Ron were both naked and in the same bed.

That basically meant only one thing.

Crap.

Harry looked over at Ron, again. God he looked beautiful. Lying there, peacefully, curled up in the blankets with the sun washing over his face. Harry groaned again, but this time not out of pain. He turned his head away and found himself instead staring at the clock, it barely eight but… shit.

The thing was, that very day, Harry was leaving. And by leaving he meant leaving, leaving. To a place far, far away for a very long time. Why? Because he had to. Not really, he just _felt_ he had to. He had to, to get away. From "Harry Potter" and all the expectations the world saddled him with, and from Ron. Mostly Ron. Because Ron was driving him insane, it wasn't Ron's fault of course. It was all Harry's, stupid Harry's for having fallen in love with Ron.

And now here he was, completely hung-over, and naked in bed with Ron. He at least wished he'd remembered if he was top or bottom.

Harry tried to sit up and a sharp pain shot up through his nether regions. Bottom, definitely bottom.

He gave up trying to get into a sitting position and flopped back down. He had about an hour at best. He'd kind of packed last night, before Ron came and got him and they went bar hopping and god pissed and the rest was a speculative history seeing as Harry couldn't actually remember anything. But most of his things were hovering near his suitcase, not quite in it. So if he were to leave now, he'd have to get home, pack everything, and then get to the Ministry, where a portkey would be awaiting him at precisely nine that morning.

Harry let out another groan. Firstly, it hurt to move. But more importantly, did he even want to? Should he get up and leave Ron and just go without saying anything, no explanations, no apologies, no "I was drunk, let's forget about it" conversations. Or should he stay. Ron had probably been just as drunk as he was, and he'd probably try to deny it, probably would wish it never happened, then again, there was that tiny light of hope in Harry's mind that maybe he _had_ wanted it.

Harry was busily contemplating his options when a freezing cold arm wrapped itself around his stomach and made him jump about a mile.

"Sorry, it's a bit cold," Ron's muffled voice said.

"R…Ron?" Harry asked, turning his head. That was most definitely Ron's arm that had wrapped itself around Harry, did that mean…?

"Yeah?" Ron sleepily replied, looking at Harry.

"What happened last night?" Harry asked. Ron's face fell.

"Don't you remember?" Ron asked.

"Seeing as I was completely pissed no, I do however have some very good theories, especially since we're both naked."

"Now, just people there are two naked people asleep in bed together it does not mean that sex was involved," Ron said.

"It does however make for a very strong case," Harry replied, "Ron, did we, or did we not, have sex?" Ron was silent for a moment.

"Yes," he finally replied. The two just lay there, as Harry comprehended with certainty exactly what had happened.

"Did you like it?" Harry asked cautiously. Ron was silent for another very long moment.

"Yes," he said quietly, "you?"

"God, I wish I could remember," Harry said. Ron lifted his head up, leaning over he kissed Harry on the lips.

"There was a lot of that," Ron said.

"Is there going to be a lot more?" Harry asked.

"Only if you want there to be," Ron replied.

"And if I say I do?"

"Then," Ron said, kissing Harry again, "there will be plenty more."

"Good," Harry replied, putting up with the pain in his backside just enough to turn and face Ron fully, wrapping his arms around Ron's neck.

"Don't you have a portkey to catch?" Ron finally asked.

"Not anymore," Harry replied. Ron smiled and pulled Harry closer to himself, silently thanking whatever gods existed.

"So, you really don't remember anything?" Ron asked.

"Not a thing," Harry replied.

"Guess I'll have to remind you then," Ron said.

Harry smirked, "I guess you will."


End file.
